


a coldness in my blood

by proximally



Series: abandoned works [8]
Category: Danny Phantom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, POV Second Person, hey remember what colour danny's ectoblasts are. and remember what colour ut's healing magic is.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proximally/pseuds/proximally
Summary: You are fourteen. Eight months have passed since the Accident. You don’t feel fourteen, sometimes.There’s a hole. Big enough someone could fall through, overgrown enough only an adult could see it through the vegetation. You can’t see the bottom. There’s a scent of flowers on the breeze, like the ones in town, but there’s no yellow to be found. The hum is louder, enticing now. It holds promise. Curiosity killed the cat, but you are… whatever you are.
Series: abandoned works [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1981928
Kudos: 37
Collections: Good Intentions: Abandoned and Unfinished WIPs





	a coldness in my blood

**Author's Note:**

> title from the lyrics of title from the lyrics of Mike Townsend (Knows What He's Gotta Do) by The Garages. no thoughts only blaseball.
> 
> originally written in april 2016.
> 
> if you'd like to take the concept and run with it, please feel free! i'd really appreciate this being linked back to though.

You are fourteen. Eight months have passed since the Accident. You don’t feel fourteen, sometimes.

Your parents drag you out one day to a mountain where children go missing. A ghost is the culprit, they say. They will catch it. Save the day. They give you an ectoblaster and tell you to stay in town with your sister, but one look at your discomfort and she tells you to do what you want. She won’t tell them. You think that she knows, but you won’t confirm it. Words make things real.

You locate them easily, but stay out of range. You don’t want them to detect you and spend the next week searching for a potentially non-existent ghost. You stand guard, but you feel no ghostly activity; just a melancholic hum, not quite audible. Its unfamiliarity sets you on edge, so you look for the source.

There’s a hole. Big enough someone could fall through, overgrown enough only an adult could see it through the vegetation. You can’t see the bottom. There’s a scent of flowers on the breeze, like the ones in town, but there’s no yellow to be found. The hum is louder, enticing now. It holds promise. Curiosity killed the cat, but you are… whatever you are. 

You don’t notice yourself losing your glow, regaining your gravity, stepping forwards. You just feel a thrill of fear as you fall, and the sunlight gets ever-further, and you don’t even think about calling for help - what use has that ever been? your friends are too human to help with your problems.

A burst of pain. The light vanishes.

* * *

You wake. There is light, here, and for a moment you don’t think that’s strange. Then you remember you fell, and you remember you should be dead. You remember you are already dead, and stop worrying.

There’s a flower, after that. It has a face. It tries to kill you, but really that’s par for the course. It surprises you more when you are saved and, dazed, you follow her home. Her name is Toriel. She helps patch you up, which is a nice change from your usual DIY attempts. Tucker is excellent at sewing, but he’s squeamish and often Sam or you has to finish the job. You don’t blame him. You don’t blame either of them. It’s not their fault you’re half-dead.

She holds your hand on the way, and when she leaves she calls you constantly. A part of you is waiting for the other shoe to drop, but a larger one kind of enjoys being treated like a kid, for once. Too much of the last year of your life has been choices between life and death; choices between cinnamon and butterscotch are much more palatable.

And then.

And then a froglike thing leaps out at you, and you curse yourself for letting your guard down. You pull at the cold spot in your chest, but the rings don’t come. Gravity remains resolute. The frog looks at you, and through your eyes, it is hungry. You stop thinking; power gathers in your hand, green and dangerous, and you release-

-and it is ineffective. The creature looks healthier, in fact. You don’t give up. Again and again you throw ghost rays, and again and again they don’t seem to do anything. You hiss in frustration; the energy coalescing in your palms is fueled by it and, like a flame, pales as it grows stronger. The frog croaks mournfully as the the white-edged disk tears a gash in its middle, and slowly it dissolves into dust. It’s a little surprising; most ghosts can take much more of a beating before they have to go away and reform. 

After a while you decide that perhaps this part of the Ghost Zone is for more inexperienced spectres. It’s certainly not a part you’ve ever seen before - for one, few seem to have discovered any of their basic powers, and the sky is neither green nor ever-changing. It’s almost unsettling in its normalcy, actually. It’s like you’re really inside the mountain.

The fights remind you, though, that as wonderful as she is, Toriel is not your real mother. And though your real mother has shot at you many times, you  _ know _ she cares. Maybe they’ve sent out search parties; who knows how long you’ve been here? Sam and Tuck and Val, they can handle the ghost problem for a few days, but what if it’s been more than a few days? You need to go home. As nice as this has been, you need to leave.

Toriel doesn’t take it well.

You don’t want to fight her. You dodge her attacks - and  _ damn _ , judging by the strength of them, she wasn’t lying about being the guardian of this place - you try to tell her, but she  _ just. won’t. listen!  _ Your eyes burn green, and you fire a warning shot at her feet. It’s weak and thoroughly green; those don’t seem to have much effect here, but you can’t hit her. You can tell, in her eyes, she doesn’t want to fight either.  _ “Let me go,”  _ you say, breathing hard; she’s still shocked. She must have thought you were human.

* * *

The flower is back. Toriel won’t help you now. 

It seems amused. Tells you you are not so different to it - ha, as if that’s a line you haven’t heard before. Whether it’s true or not? well. You’ve never been able to answer that one.

It leaves. You walk on. You still need to go home.

* * *

_ You’re walking in the woods, _ you think to yourself.  _ There’s no one around and your phone is dead… _ You almost laugh, but there’s a  _ snap! _ behind you and,  _ fuck, _ you nearly leap out of your skin. You walk faster, and, god, don’t you regret thinking about that song now?  _ Out of the corner of your eye, you spot him… _ There’s a bridge ahead; it looks a little rickety. You stop. You think,  _ I beat the Ghost King. I can beat whatever that is.  _ You steel yourself. This place is weird, but no weirder than a lot of places you’ve been. You survived then, you can survive now.

_**“Human,”**_ says a voice behind you, a voice that sounds like tombstones and cracked earth. You shiver involuntarily. **_“Don't you know how to greet a new pal? Turn around and shake my hand.”_**

_ It’s a trap _ , you think, and ectoplasm leaps to your fingertips. You won’t die today. Not here, not now; you need to go home. One foot slides forward in the snow and you pivot, spinning on your back foot and landing in a defensive stance, veins thrumming with energy. Your gaze is hard and steady.

It falters when you take in your new pal.

They’re a skeleton. In a hoodie and shorts. You weren’t aware skulls could express any kind of emotion, but this one is very clearly surprised.

“whoa there buddy, it’s just a little prank,” he says placatingly, and shows you what’s in his hand. “y’know, the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick? it’s  _ always _ funny. except today, i guess. anyways, you’re a human, right?” Did he...not see the hands? You’ll play along, for now. You nod slowly. “that’s hilarious. i’m sans. sans the skeleton.” He holds out a hand for you to shake.

_ ppththbbbbphthbppbpt. _

Too late do you realise it’s the same hand he showed you, and you honestly can’t help but snort. Really, you deserved that one. “Danny,” you say, and you dare to relax a little.

Sans grins. Well. He’s always grinning, you notice. “im actually supposed to be on watch for humans right now. but... y’know... i don’t really care about capturing anybody.” That’s handy. “my brother, papyrus, though… he’s a human-hunting FANATIC. hey, actually, i think that’s him over there.” Oh, of course. You knew your luck could only stretch so far. “i have an idea. go through this gate thingy.”  _ Trap? _ you wonder. Your eyebrow arches. “yeah, go right through. my bro made the bars too wide to stop anyone.” Well, if all else fails, you have your ghost powers. Most of them. You’ll be fine. You cross the bridge.

“quick, behind that conveniently shaped lamp,” says the skeleton, and honestly how is this your life now? You stand behind the lamp. “huh, maybe not that conveniently shaped after all. crouch a bit, maybe?” You crouch, and reach for your invisibility. Just in case. 

You hear footsteps approach. Invisibly, you observe: it’s another skeleton. This one’s a lot taller, and looks like he just stepped out of a comic book. 

“sup, bro?” says Sans.  _ Papyrus, _ you think.

“YOU KNOW WHAT ‘SUP’ BROTHER! IT’S BEEN EIGHT DAYS AND YOU STILL HAVEN’T RECALIBRATED. YOUR. PUZZLES! YOU JUST HANG AROUND OUTSIDE YOUR STATION! WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING?!?”

Wow, he’s loud.

“staring at this lamp. it’s really cool. do you wanna look?”

_ Traitor.  _ You tense.

“NO!! I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THAT!! WHAT IF A HUMAN COMES THROUGH HERE!?!” Oh.  _ Oh. _ You see what Sans is doing. It’s exactly the same as what you do to your parents. You relax again. But only a little. After all, the last time you saw an animated skeleton was Pariah’s army, and back then you had allies and a powerup. “I WANT TO BE READY!!! I WILL BE THE ONE! I MUST BE THE ONE! I WILL CAPTURE A HUMAN! THEN, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS… WILL GET ALL THE THINGS I UTTERLY DESERVE! RESPECT… RECOGNITION… I WILL FINALLY BE ABLE TO JOIN THE ROYAL GUARD! PEOPLE WILL ASK, TO, BE MY, ‘FRIEND?’ I WILL BATHE IN A SHOWER OF KISSES EVERY MORNING.”

You stifle a snort; the melodrama reminds you of Technus. The friends thing is a little sad though. 

“hmm… maybe this lamp will help you.”

“SANS!! YOU ARE NOT HELPING!! YOU LAZYBONES!! ALL YOU DO IS SIT AND BOONDOGGLE! YOU GET LAZIER AND LAZIER EVERY DAY!!!”

“hey, take it easy. i’ve gotten a  _ ton _ of work done today. a skele- _ ton _ .”

“SANS!!!”

“come on. you’re smiling.”

“I AM AND I HATE IT!”

Suddenly you like these guys a lot more. They’re so…  _ humerus. _

* * *

Ghost or not, you’re freezing, and that’s not fun. You regret never improving your stamina with intangibility; after just five minutes you’re spending more energy letting the cold literally go through you than you would braving it like a normal human. On the upside, though, pun-proficient ghosts seem to be common around here and, hey - Klemper’s been an Amity Park regular for long enough that you have a whole repertoire for this environment. 

You’re not sure quite how, but you end up sharing them with a snow monster. It seems to greatly appreciate your input as a fellow punslinger, and directs you to town. You smile the whole way.

* * *

Snowdin is nice. You like the name, too, but the shop even more. The rabbit lady is a little strange, but it’s not like you’ve never been to a convention before. She’s pretty friendly, too, and she’s happy to sell you a little food and a jacket, and tell you a little about this microcosm you’ve stumbled into.

You’re not quite sure what to make of what she tells you. The War? The Barrier? Just what is happening here? 


End file.
